Genre: harry_potter

Chapter 1: (Not) A Romance Story

The party was in full swing when Harry decided it was safe to leave the small coffee shop. Tonight, the Three Broomsticks was holding a Commemoration Party for the defeat of the Dark Lord, and most of the wizarding population around Hogsmeade were gathering there. Between the euphoria of meeting and catching up with old friends again, most had forgotten about him, and Harry was glad they had. It was suffocating in there, with all the people talking and being happy in general. He could not bring himself to be like them.

It was chilling outside. The clear winter night sky was decorated with thousands of bright stars, and even the moon looked brighter than usual. It was a lovely night to be outside. The street was almost empty, except for a few stragglers who were too drunk to remember their way home.

Cold breezes rushed past him, and Harry fumbled with his robe for his wand; lovely night or not, it was still too cold. After casting the warming charm on his robe, Harry moved further away from the entrance and walked down the familiar street that led him to Hogwarts, not exactly sure why he wanted to see that place – those ruins – again. That was when he saw the shadow of a man, leaning against the brick wall across the street. Harry was not in the mood to chat, but he waved at the man nonetheless after he saw clearly who the man was.

"Hey, Seamus," Harry said, stopping just a few paces from his friend.

Seamus was biting his cigarette and stared absently into the darkness. The cool air made his deep breathing visible, steamy like. There was a bitter line at the corner of his lips, and his eyes were dull. It might be the smoke that made his eyes lose their normally cheerful nature, or the fact that Seamus had grown up somewhat.

"Hey," said Seamus, his voice thick from alcohol and deeper from age. It sounded wrong to Harry's ears.

Harry smiled a bit awkwardly and gestured to the cigarette in Seamus' hand. "I never knew you smoked."

"I've never smoked before," Seamus shrugged, grinning slightly. "Dean smokes. He offered me a sniff, so I thought, why not?"

Harry was not sure how he felt about that. The war seemed to have a permanent effect on people. For him, he was even more quiet and reserved, and was not as trusting as he used to be. For Seamus, the Irishman had become even more of a risk-taker and seemed not to have any care for the world.

Seamus was wrinkling his nose at the wispy cloud of smoke rising slowly from the cigarette. "The smell is disgusting. I don't like it one bit, but well, you should try this sometime. It's not that bad, after you get used to the smell, that is."

Harry had to chuckle. Only Seamus could be like that; did not like something, but did it anyway because he could. "No, thanks. I like my lungs the way they are."

Seamus shrugged again. "Whatever. It's your loss, not mine."

Harry smiled. "How have you been, Seamus? I heard you applied for a position in the Ministry."

"Grapevine news, eh?" the Irishman snorted, but he sobered quickly. "Yes, but not at this Ministry. I'm moving out of the country. I know there are some places that are more accepting of my... condition."

Harry did not ask what he meant by "condition"; he had heard enough in his sixth year at Hogwarts to know exactly what the word meant. Everyone knew it, in fact. Seamus' breaking up with Blaise Zabini was a hush-hush affair, which meant that everyone from first-year Hufflepuffs and their pets to the professors knew about it on the first day. It was not a pretty situation for either Seamus or Zabini. The wizarding world tolerated homosexuals as long as it was not exposed. Harry thought he knew what they were coming from. The wizarding population was so low as it was, added to that, people were being killed every day by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The low birth rate because of the fear for their children's lives was not helping either. Well, homosexuality was a straw too much for the camel's back.

"You're being awfully quiet," Seamus remarked, breaking Harry from his musings. "You know that I'm not bitter or anything, right? I'm being myself, and that's enough. I'm happy. Well, sorta. I don't need your pity, or anyone's, for that matter."

"I do not pity you," Harry started, but shut up when he heard the other man mumble "Right, of course" under his breath. Harry knew Seamus didn't believe him, but was willing to let the subject drop.

There was a tense silence after that, and Harry did not know how to break it. He suddenly realized that he did not know this Seamus. This man was not the cheerful and chatty boy Harry remembered, and Harry did not know what to say to him.

"Enough talk about me," Seamus abruptly said, grinning slightly. "I heard you're doing great as the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes investor. They're going to beat Zonko soon, you know. There'll only be Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products here at Hogwarts. Last time I heard, Zonko was making new products to compete with the Twins."

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "The Twins are too good at making prank stuff. Zonko will never beat them. I'm just glad they're doing fine. The Weasleys deserve to be happy after all that happened to them."

Seamus stopped smiling and kicked absently at a pebble near his foot. "Yeah, well, about that... I'm sorry about Ginny. I'm not that close to her, but I'm sure she was a nice girl."

Harry frowned and looked away. That wound was still too fresh, and it pained him to be reminded of her. "She was. I don't have much of a 'family,' and the Weasleys took me in. She was like my little sister."

Harry missed her. She was fiercely loyal and knew too much pain in her young life. At the same time, she was hopelessly innocent in some aspects. Like when she was captured by the Death Eaters with a few of her Muggle friends, she tried to talk to 'Tom' in Voldemort to let them go, only to make him become more furious and torture them all to death.

Harry let go of a shaky breath. He did not want to meet the other's eyes for fear that he would find pity in them, but if only he looked, he would have found that they were bright with compassion and understanding. Green eyes fluttered shut when Harry felt warm arms wrapped around his shoulder. He let himself be held for only a second and then tried to get free. Seamus shrugged and let go of his friend, his face spoke clearly that he was willing to listen if Harry wanted to talk.

But Harry didn't want to talk, so he fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve and tried to think of something to say and change the topic. After a while, Seamus sighed in an amused but exasperated way and started a new topic himself.

"You know, I've always fantasized about fucking you," Seamus said, his eyes twinkled merrily. "Or you fucking me."

Well, trusted Seamus to think up a topic that Harry was even more uncomfortable talking about. Harry gaped at his friend unbelievingly; his face was so comical that Seamus had to laugh.

"Relax, Harry, I was only teasing you! I am yet to give up on Blaise, you know that. Besides, you're so amusing when you're startled."

Harry spluttered in dignity for a full minute before he managed to bring himself to respond to that comment. "Well, you shouldn't do that, or I might think that you're really interested in me!"

Seamus shrugged again. "Well, I am. But you're not supposed to know that."

Harry was uncomfortable, to say the least, especially when Seamus threw his cigarette away and looked at him from under those sandy eyelashes.

"You are a fine-looking bloke, Harry, and you have a good heart. What's not to like about you? Well, maybe not your infamous temper, but beside that, you're a good guy to fantasize about," Seamus smirked. His smile reminded Harry of their old days at Hogwarts; playing Quidditch, snarking about Slytherins, and generally having a good time around each other.

"Stop it, Seamus," Harry spoke softly.

"No, you stop it, Harry," Seamus snapped, his face crumpled, and then he looked away. "It's not like I'm going to jump you or anything."

His smile crooked with bitterness, and that was making Harry feel guilty. They just stood like that, no one knew what to talk about, or was willing to make up a new topic, and it was extremely uncomfortable. Harry fidgeted with his hair and looked away, but subtly gauged Seamus' emotion from the corner of his eyes.

"Well, since the cat was already out of the bag," Seamus began, making Harry almost jump at the abruptness of it. "Would you like to try?"

"WHAT?" Harry's eyes were as huge as saucers.

"This," Seamus gestured vaguely. "Want to try?"

The refusal stuck in his mouth, and Harry swallowed thickly, looking into those eyes as if looking for something, but did not know what he was looking for either. So he kept on looking, and when the hand touched his cheek and the face moved closer, Harry did not flinch.

Red lips claimed his, and breathed the moist hot air into his mouth. The air was stained with the smell of cigarette and brandy, but it was strangely intoxicating, so Harry opened his mouth even more and let the clever tongue roam his mouth freely. When the tip of the tongue teased a particular place behind his teeth, Harry shivered and moaned deliriously, his knees weakened just a little more. When the teeth nibbled gently at his lower lip, and a hand moved under the band of his boxer, Harry was lost.

It was more than he could take. The heat spread all over his groin and anywhere else that was touched by those heated body parts. It was ice and fire; the cool night air, the hot tongue, the cold zipper, the terribly warm hands. Seamus was awfully adept with his hands too.

"Sea–" Harry gasped, arching for more of those naughty fingers, and the other was more than glad to oblige. It was when Harry was toppled over the edge of blissfulness that he remembered the other's stiff length, still hiding behind the thick pants, rubbing rhythmically against his thigh. Or the hot, wetness that started seeping through their pants.

"Gods, Seamus," Harry whispered, running a hand through his hair awkwardly and looking everywhere except at Seamus.

The Irishman only smiled in response, pulled out a handkerchief, and carelessly wiped off Harry's come from his hand. Harry blankly watched him do that, all the while blushing hotly. When Seamus raised his eyebrow and gestured to his crotch with the question if he wanted to be "cleaned" too, Harry shook his head violently and backed away a step.

"Gods..." Harry whispered again. His face felt like it was on fire. It was so embarrassing, this situation. He was not used to being so... abandoned with his partners, not that he had many, but still, being so openly pleased was not something he would normally show. But this was Seamus, his friend for seven years and more, not some stranger witch or wizard trying to molest him. But friends were not supposed to do that to each other!

Seamus was still acting all cool and reached for his discarded cigarette, picked it up, and looked at the ashes at its end intently, as if waiting for something to happen. Harry was certain the other was actually waiting for him to make the first move. After all, it was not every day that you performed a fantastic hand job to your mate that was up until now firmly believed to be straight, although that mate was not so sure of his heterosexuality now after the hand job in question.

Gods, this was so confusing as hell, Harry thought. But Seamus was still waiting...

So Harry gathered all his Gryffindor bravery, bit his lower lip, and asked, his messed-up trousers.

"Will you come with me tonight?"

"I just came. You could at least wait for a guy to recover first," Seamus playfully complained, airily waving at his sticking pants.

"Seamus!" Harry reprimanded, blushing hotly.

Seamus smiled.